


A Life Less Extraordinary

by SmackTheDevil



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blow Jobs, Boys Kissing, Cohabitation, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Retired Hunter Dean Winchester, Retired Hunter Sam Winchester, Rimming, Sibling Incest, Temporarily Unrequited Love, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-05-01 22:58:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19186993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmackTheDevil/pseuds/SmackTheDevil
Summary: Written in celebration of Dean Winchester's 40th birthday, a little ode to freedom.Also written before the announcement of the end and way before everyone found out that Chuck was actually a massive wank-stain.





	1. Chapter 1

A LIFE LESS EXTRAORDINARY

 

SAM

I guess a seed was planted in my head after I went back to hunting with Dean after I lost Jessica. It was subconscious, kind of like when your brain picks up on something you hadn’t thought you had noticed during the day and then you dream about it deeply at night. And let’s face it, I wasn’t getting a whole of sleep back then. I was having a lot of nightmares about Jess and Mom, not that I can remember anything about what happened back in Lawrence but it was a weird time. Weirder than usual. I went from cramming for my finals and preparing for interviews to hunting in a matter days, I don’t think Dean ever really understood that. Up until that point Dean had never once had a normal day that didn’t include leaving the house with his Colt .45. I wasn’t thinking as clearly as I do now, these days I go into a hunt with a pretty clear head and I guess that’s what helps get the job done. I don’t think Dean has ever learned how to do that, probably why he drinks and I don’t, at least not to excess like he does. But that’s another story for another day.  
We used to get a lot of comments, not so much nowadays, people mistaking us for a couple. I suppose I found it funny, because it drove Dean crazy that anyone would think he was in any way gay. He comes across as homophobic often but I know he isn’t, he was just kind of sickened at the idea of an ‘us’ and yeah, it was icky. Back then, at least. I get why people thought it and sometimes still do, I know we don’t look alike. Even though we sound similar sometimes and we’re both tall like Dad. We dress the same, but that’s more a hunter thing that a brother thing. And we’re alike, Dean wouldn’t agree but we are. Dean cuts his hair real short a lot, I liked it when he grew it out, pity he was possessed at the time. He freaked out over that when we saved him and went to the barber the next day to cut it all off. But I’m digressing.  
I suppose I never minded people thinking we were together, it kind of proved to the world that we were together in a brotherly sense. That we looked close, that we looked out for one another and would put everything else aside in favor of each other. Even through the tough times and there have been a lot, we’ve pulled through literal Hell to save one another. Man, the fights but it works because it’s more than people realize.

DEAN

I just wanna state for the record, Sam’s stupid record, that this is stupid. Stupid. I can’t remember how I felt when people thought we were a couple all the time. Mad, I guess. I mean, back then the idea of it was a little gross. I’d seen Maury shows about brothers and sisters and hell I don’t know what else, doing it. And they were all 31 flavors of crazy. We ain’t ever been a functional family, I’ve gone most of my adult life without a decent set up. Sam was and is my family. Sam didn’t take much notice when people said it, offering us a queen size bed when we wanted two singles and just assuming that we screw, taking one look at us and thinking ‘Yeah, they fuck.’ I put ‘em straight every damn time but Sammy, he would just stand there and take it. Maybe he knew then, I dunno. I sure as hell didn’t. Never even crossed my mind. Okay, I lie. Back then, maybe once I guess. Sammy had been drinking, for a tall kid, he could not hold his liquor. He was crying and being all Sammy dramatic about wanting me to kill him, normal crap for us, I guess. And he was touching me a lot and I was pushing him off but he looked so damn desperate, I just wanted to comfort him. Now, I ain’t a big hugger. But man, that night I wanted to hold him and never let him go. And for a moment, I wanted to kiss him. The rational side of my brain shot that thought down quicker than a bolt of lightening. Never thought about it again, not for a long time.  
We used to get a lot of that head shrink ‘co-dependent’ and ‘erotically co-dependent’ crap which used to make me feel sick but I guess people change and yeah, it does kind of piss me off that I can see it now and couldn’t before and even ass-hat angels had picked up on it. Sammy reminded me, a coupla days ago how I had shot someone down at even attempting to call Sam ‘Sammy’. I can’t remember who it was now, I think it was Gordon Walker, he was a dick. I mean, what kind of brother gets so defensive about a name like that. I guess, that would be me.

SAM

When we found the Supernatural books by Carver Edlund/Chuck/God that kind of switched things for me. Just a little. It made me think, ‘what can people see that we can’t?’ but I guess with all the Lilith crap going on, I sort of forgot about my thoughts on it. At the time, we were holed up in some motel, they all blend into one. And I found a fansite online. It wasn’t huge, but everyone was keen to tell us that the Supernatural books weren’t that popular. Just one of those niche fan bases you find in some lonely corner of the internet.  
I’ll never forget Dean’s face when I told him that the ‘fans’ saw us as a couple. He moved across the room so fast, it was like a cartoon. ‘Oh, that’s just gross’ or something like that. I felt pretty neutral about it, Dean had made his point and I didn’t need to say anything. Let’s face it, Dean normally says enough for the both of us. The idea that the books were already like diaries we had written ourselves and were really personal was enough for both of us. Now, I can’t speak for Dean but now I can see it wasn’t disgust on his part, just offense. Offense that someone else had figured something out before he had. At that point, I was fighting feelings toward Dean but was able to sweep them away into a box in my brain and just focus on the job, hence my ‘non-reaction’ to the fan girls wanting a Sam and Dean romance. Dean, I think he just found it way too personal.  
But yeah, those books were the watering of that initial seed for me. Or the fan reactions at least. I’m glad we don’t have legions of fans and thankfully that website has been dormant for years now. A little like my feelings for Dean but not any more I guess.

DEAN

Oh man, those frickin’ books. I was pissed off about those. It don’t even make it any better that Chuck wrote ‘em. I’ve always valued my privacy but they took the cake. And all that fan girl Sam and Dean together BS on that shitty website, still makes me mad. I don’t hunt for the glory or the fame, it ain’t never been about that. We rarely get thanks, I mean it’s appreciated when we do. But most of the time it’s a thankless, dirty job and I’m okay with it. It don’t help me sleep at night but it sure as helps me atone for my sins. I guess sleeping with Sammy is one of ‘em now.  
My reaction to the website, thinking back (a lot has happened since then, so my memory ain’t so good) was, well, I was hurt. I wouldn’t ever tell Sammy that, not even now. The books had the most intimate details of our lives, private conversations, pages and pages of me hooking up with women, even a paragraph about me taking a shower. And okay, that creeped me out. I had a quiet word with Chuck about all that. God said sorry. Crazy life. But it was the suggestion that Sam and I were together, even before, years before it ever happened felt like the biggest violation of privacy because it had always been there. I didn’t know it. It wasn’t like it was in the front of my mind like ‘You must eat’ or ‘You need sleep’ but it was in there. And some crazy ‘fans’ pasted it all over the internet. Sammy said that it hardly had any hits and let’s face it, when people who had read those books actually met us, they never believed it was us anyways. But I was still pissed off, still am. I wanted to figure that out by myself. Sammy and me, we both saw it. And to be honest, it set us back a few years. We didn’t want to appease some crazy lonely girls like Becky on the internet. And so, any thoughts that had popped up inside my gourd were buried again. Back to fighting the good fight.

SAM

Why wasn’t I pissed off when Dean lived with Lisa and Ben for that year? I had no soul and literally felt nothing. Didn’t even feel happy for him. I looked at the situation in a practical way, Dean had gotten what he wanted. A family, a normal life. So I just walked away. I wasn’t lonely, not that I could really understand that concept at the time but I had Samuel, my namesake and the rest of the Campbell’s. I stood in the street and watched him through the window, at that time he didn’t look particularly happy but I went back every now and then to check and he looked settled. And by settled, I mean he went about doing what regular folks do. Mowing the front lawn, talking to the neighbors and ordering pizza on Friday nights. Dean, from what I could see was on ‘normal man in the street auto-pilot’ even then I could see through the charade. Like he had an itch that he needed to scratch but he just couldn’t reach enough to relieve it.  
When I got my soul back and of course by then, Dean was almost back in the life, it was then that the jealousy hit me. And I hated it. I’ve never been a jealous person. I helped Dean rescue Lisa and Ben, I would never want to see any harm come to either of them. Innocent bystanders. But I did it with a slice of unwillingness in my heart. When Lisa was ‘re-set’ on Dean’s request, I can’t lie but I was relieved. I had him back. By then my feelings toward Dean had turned sexual in nature. I have never been one for going out and getting laid, aside from my time without a soul and that became more regular as time went on purely because no one ever really satisfied me. Not that I knew if Dean could, or would but it just left me wanting. I took every morning watching Dean stagger home (wherever home happened to be at the time) after a night out screwing in my stride. In hindsight, he never looked satisfied either.

DEAN

Amelia was a huge problem for me. Not the chick so much, just that this person had walked into Sammy’s life and suddenly became the most important to him. I mean, you can’t blame the kid for wanting what I attempted to do with Lisa and Ben. I guess we both had a shot at being ‘boyfriends’ but as with most stuff in our lives, it never worked out. Sam went off-grid for a whole year while I was stuck in purgatory with Cas and Benny. And there was Sammy, hitting dogs with his car and hooking up with some random, moody chick. To say I was pissed off, is an understatement. He just didn’t seem to care. And then gets all pissy with me because of Benny. Sammy told me the other night that it was because Benny was a guy and not a vampire that pissed him off the most.  
As I chose Sam over Lisa and Ben, Sammy chose me over Amelia. It wasn’t gonna be any other way. It took a lot of work rebuilding the trust between us. I felt betrayed and cast aside, that Sam didn’t even attempt to try and get me out of purgatory and he felt sidelined by my friendship with Benny. It took time, more time than any other I guess. But, we got there. And man, did Sammy look good when I saw him for the first time. That was the moment for me, when the swept away thoughts about my brother pushed themselves right to the front of my head. His hair was longer and he looked healthy and tanned. And then obviously it all went to shit for a little while and we went back to resenting one another for a little while.  
There is something out there that keeps pushing us together. Why do we never stay dead? What the hell is so special about us when there are hundreds of other hunters out there? Chuck chose us, divine intervention at its most pure. For all I know, Chuck will have us live forever. Even the idea of it makes me feel tired but it’s Sammy that keeps me going. Without him what else is there?

SAM

I was terrified of Dean when he was possessed, a triple XL version of Dean Winchester. A killer with no conscience, no morals, he was gone. I know he slept with a lot of women too and probably guys, he’s never confirmed or denied that but I’m pretty sure that if he hadn’t been a demon, he would have caught something gross. I had to put all of that aside, the jealousy which again was prevalent. The relationship with Crowley and the bed-hopping. He wouldn’t tell me how many people he killed, he says he doesn’t remember but at quiet times, I can see on his face that he can. It wasn’t just the black eyes, I only saw them a couple of times, it was his real eyes during that time. I thought and still think that Dean has kind eyes, they’ve gotten kinder as he’s gotten older but that moment he turned back, his kind eyes looked back at me. All the while during his time as a demon, his green eyes looked dead. Like a sharks eyes. I hated that the most.  
For a few days after he came back, he slept. I sent Cas away, as much as I was forever grateful to him for his help, I needed some time to look after Dean. Not that he let me much, I left soup and coffee in his room for when he woke up and took it out when it had gotten cold because he had just kept sleeping. Most of the time he didn’t know what I was doing to help. He slept for so long, I had to keep checking up on him. Then, I was stood in the kitchen in the bunker, the drip on the coffee machine wasn’t dripping. Clogged up with old coffee grounds and I was trying to fix it. I hadn’t heard Dean walk into the kitchen, we don’t tend to hear one another moving about much. It’s the hunter stealth I guess. But I suddenly felt him, his chest hit my back and his arms wrapped around my arms. I could tell by his body that it was Dean and that he felt okay. I slowly turned around and we hugged. Silently. Dean was still warm and clammy from sleeping in his clothes for two days, his pants were wrinkled and the sleeves of his red shirt looked like concertinas. But what was strange, not so much now, but at the time was that the hug just went on and on. And it was intimate. It wasn’t a quick, rough chest bump and manly slaps on the back, it was close. As I had turned, I had found my legs a little twisted under my body and moved slowly to right them, as I did, Dean kind of slotted himself into me. His legs locking between mine. His hands felt firm against my back, he didn’t stroke it but it felt affectionate.  
Every part of the front of our bodies were touching, I could feel ‘it’ and so could he but we never spoke. Dean eventually pulled off, his head down. I could just catch that he was smiling, just a little and then he fist bumped the center of my chest, head still down and shuffled off outta the kitchen. I didn’t see him again for three hours until he strolled into the library, showered, changed and with a new hair cut. 

DEAN

The stuff I did as a demon has come back to haunt me from time to time. I’m pretty much an expert, as Sammy is at burying the bad stuff we’ve done into the dark recesses of our gourds. Crowley never let me forget, the dick. And that guy Cole who found me again to finish his business and then the memories that kind of popped up here and there when I let my guard down. I did some shitty stuff, bad stuff and I can’t blame it all on the demon. I was the demon. I became a magnified version of myself, that was the scariest part. I am a killer, I ain’t ever gonna deny that. I have to be rational and put some kills down as collateral damage but some, they ain’t. This is why Chuck’s interest in Sammy and me don’t sit right, I ain’t no saint. I would have said angel but we’ve seen how those dicks deal with crap. Cas is the exception to the rule.  
I don’t have any memory of the first day or so after I came back, I know I slept because Sammy told me and I remember having dreams. They were pretty low-key regular dreams, at least for someone like me. And sometimes I would wake up because I would smell coffee. I could just about focus on a mug on my nightstand and I would hear the click of my door but then I would fall right back to sleep. The hug, that was plain and simple me telling Sammy thank you and that I loved him. I think he got it, I couldn’t have spoken if I had wanted to, my voice was shot from too much sleep and dehydration. And yeah, I guess you could say it was intimate. I felt stuff and I know Sammy did but I left it and I walked away.  
It kinda makes me laugh when I hear regular folks talking about their complicated lives. Juggling work, kids and marriage. It must be real tough for them. And I don’t doubt it but that year with Lisa and Ben was complication free. I got up, went to work, I came home. We ate dinner, watched a movie and sometimes choosing a pizza topping we all wanted was about as complicated as we got as a family. And you know what? It was easy.  
I had just woken up after my possession and I still had the Mark of Cain. I wasn’t about to start adding to the mountain of crap that was/is our lives by starting anything with Sammy. It would have been just another complication.

SAM

Amara was a tough one for me. And as much as I knew that Dean was unwillingly under her influence, it kind of broke my heart. I guess, even though Dean would deny this, there is a part of me that doesn’t always think rationally or practically. And sometimes I don’t always see things as they are. Such as Amara being Dean’s soul desire. My jealousy hit a peak during that time and I beat myself up about it, a lot. Dean repeatedly told me that no matter what Amara said he should be feeling, he didn’t feel that way toward her one bit. And he truly believed that but we were talking cosmic power on an epic scale and she had me over a barrel. There was no competition.  
Sending Dean off with that loaded bomb inside him was one of the hardest things I have ever done. I was both heartbroken and mad at him, it’s a weird combination of emotions but when we said goodbye, I told him I loved him. I just whispered it into his sleeve and he said it back. At least, I think he did. My head was a mess. For a long time, I didn’t know that Dean was okay. I was being tortured by a rogue Men of Letters operative so once again, I was a little preoccupied. And then he shows up with Mom and from that moment, as much as I was happy to see Mom, to meet her, I knew that she would be around and that any chance Dean and I had of being together would never come to life. And to be honest, I was just happy seeing Dean with Mom, at least for the time she was around before she went off hunting. I’m not blaming her for ‘getting in the way’ but it was just another reason telling me that it was wrong and that I should leave it. Dean hadn’t been anywhere near as affectionate as he had been after the hug and so I laid my feelings to rest and got on with the job.

DEAN

I got a lot to thank Amara for, now at least. She gave us Mom back and as apologies go, it was a doozy. I hadn’t ever felt a power like hers when I was around her. Face to face, I wanted her so bad but away from her, I hated the bitch for drawing me in. I kinda felt like she picked me because I was the easy target when it came to hot women giving me the come on and that Sammy wouldn’t have fallen for it. But it was her power and all that BS about how she was my destiny and vice versa, it was forced. Aside from her threats about boiling the earth alive, my main priority was switching my heart back to Sammy. How Amara made me feel about her was dangerous, how I felt about Sammy, that felt like home.  
And, well Sammy and me, we talked about it. When Mom came back it was like we had been naughty, even though we hadn’t done a thing about the feelings. It felt like she had been sent back to get us back in line. I mean, it wasn’t that. Having Mom back was what I had always wanted but still, everything was kind re-set. Sammy and me never even thought about it again. It was the moral thing, Sam had said. What if we had, what if Mom had just come back from the dead and seen her sons in that way. I mean, big enough shock in the first place but her kids, together?  
Over the years, the team of Sam and Dean has gotten larger. Mom, Cas, Jack, other world Bobby and all those hunters he brought with him. It wasn’t just us any more and I guess it kind of put an end to it. Or so we thought.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean’s 40th Birthday

Dean had made it quite clear that he didn’t want any fuss for his birthday. He didn’t like that he was getting old. Or ‘just older’ as Sam pointed out regularly to try and ease the tension. He still looked damn good for a 40-year-old. He had a few lines around his eyes and his hair was peppered with a little gray and his knees crackled like bubble wrap when he knelt down but he looked good. Like a fine wine, Sam had always thought. He got a little more tired than usual, just on occasion but he still had a good few years in him yet, that’s if he hadn’t gotten got by that time.

Sam had ignored Dean’s pleas for no fuss, as expected but he didn’t do anything huge. Parties just felt wrong, they both drank most days anyway so that wouldn’t be a treat and nor would Dean appreciate vouchers for a strip club. ‘I ain’t gonna be that guy’ Dean had once said. During the morning, Sam had said a quick ‘Happy birthday’ to his brother. The sentiment had been greeted with a snarl. As the day went on, Sam managed to assign jobs to the other world hunters who were using the bunker as a base; giving them overnight jobs that would take them away for at least the next day or two. Mary had sent a text from wherever she happened to be as did Bobby. Sam also noticed that Dean had become increasingly irritated at the lack of attention, which was typical Dean Winchester behavior and soon the heavy sighs and the grumbling became like white noise to Sam who indeed had planned something but was simply biding his time and waiting for the right moment.   
The right moment showed itself as the last hunter left for a job a few states over, leaving the Winchesters alone. A rare treat in itself.

“Y’know, not one of those assholes said happy birthday. Not one of ‘em.” Dean said, sitting down at the table in the library with a glass of sub par whiskey in his hand.

“Dean, maybe that’s because they just met you and anyways, you said you didn’t ‘want a fuss’.” Sam used air quotes which made Dean’s hackles rise.

“But still. What are you doin’?” Dean leaned over the pile of books on the table. “Why you readin’ the Black Grimoire. Thinkin’ of joinin’ a coven?” Dean chuckled at his own joke.

“I’m putting together an abridged version for some of the other hunters, I thought it could be useful.”

“A bridge?” 

“Abridged.” Sam corrected. Dean looked back his brother blankly. “Like Cliff Notes.”

“Oh, sure. I knew that. Nerd.”

Dean was clearly bored and was in an attention seeking mood. Tapping out drum beats on the table and asking Sam to guess which song they came from. Tipping back on his chair, until he went too far, having to grab the table to stop himself from hitting the floor.

“Dean. What are you doing?”

“I’m bored, you gave all the good cases to Bobby’s minions.”

“You want to work a case on your birthday?”

“I dunno.” Dean shrugged. And Sam thought to himself, that not only for his own sanity he had put Dean through enough. He stood up, running a hand through his hair. 

“You want a beer?”

“Sure. I’ll go for a beer.” Dean nodded, watching Sam disappear and frowning at his back.

Dean kind of knew that Sam was up to something and was sitting like a meerkat in his chair as Sam walked back in with an armful of packages, none of which looked at all festive but still piqued Dean’s interest. 

“Move the books.” Sam said, sliding the gifts onto the table, which curled a few pages he had been working on and closed them shut. Dean moved what he could be bothered to move. He looked up at Sam and grinned. 

“I knew you had done something.”

“No, you didn’t.” Sam smirked and sat back down in his chair. “Happy birthday.” Sam’s tone was a little shy and he blushed softly. “Go on, open them and quit your whining.”

The gifts were wrapped in brown paper tied with string. There was a store in town where you could buy gift wrap but Sam went for the simple and anonymous approach knowing that Dean would have probably spent an hour or so hunting for gifts like a 6 year old. Everything was typical Dean Winchester catnip. A bottle of expensive whiskey, a huge oversized mug with the legend ‘Fuck off until I’ve had my coffee’ written on it. That killed Dean, and Sam sat looking at him, endearingly bemused as he chuckled loudly at it. The centerpiece was a bespoke ‘birthday pie’ with 40 baked into the top of the crust. Dean was torn, vaguely insulted by the mention of his age. But pie.

“It’s apple but it has a honey whiskey glaze.” Sam pointed out, folding his arms across his broad chest and looking rather smug.

“A pie, with booze.” Dean said as if he had just found the Ark of the Covenant. “What a time to be alive.” He chuckled then looked across the table at Sam. “Know what Lisa got me on my birthday?” Sam felt his shoulders rise at the mention of her name, he shook his head. “Pajamas. This, this awesome.” Dean nodded his appreciation. “Thanks, man.”

“You’re welcome.” Sam smiled lightly, Dean was always low key, it was fine. “So, are you gonna share the booze?”

“Well, normally I wouldn’t but you surpassed yourself Sammy.” Dean chuckled, sliding the bottle out of the box and unscrewing the cap like it was an unexploded bomb. He poured out two fingers each, handing Sam a glass.

“Cheers.” Sam said softly, tapping Dean’s glass.

“Happy birthday to me.”

 

LATER

“I am genuinely scared of ‘em, Dean.” Sam was a little indignant but was now so drunk that he chuckled along with Dean.

“But Sammy, clowns. I mean, I get that they’re creepy.”

“They tried to kill me.”

“Everything tries to kill us.” Dean rolled his eyes, the good whiskey had been set aside and they were now on the usual gut rot that Bobby always drinks. Sam had slid his chair around to sit next to Dean, purely because Dean had spilled booze all over the Black Grimoire which had soaked it up until it was dry in a matter of seconds. And thus freaked them both out.

“I guess it kind of makes me feel normal to have an irrational fear like a normal person.”

“So you admit it’s irrational.”

“I suppose.” Sam shrugged. Dean always chose to go deep with conversation when they were drunk together, Sam would go the opposite way. For example, he now found the giant mug hilarious. “S-so, Dean. What’s is like t-to be 40?” Sam slurred.

“It’s okay, y’know. Better than I thought it would be. I mean, I don’t feel that different to how I felt yesterday. Do I look different?”

“No. You look the same.” Sam said, shaking his head sincerely.

“Awesome.” Dean sat staring at the floor, then flicked his head up to look at his brother. “Y’know. I didn’t never ever think I could get this drunk. I mean, I drink but I don’t ever get drunk-” Dean paused, blinking slowly at his brother. “You okay, Sammy”?

“Uh, yeah. I-I’m just having a weird mo-, I can see two of you.” Sam opened his eyes as wide as they would go, desperately trying to focus. The realization of the level of his intoxication suddenly hit him. “I need to lie down.”

“Hey hey, no you don’t. It’s my birthday and we ain’t had time alone for a long while.” Dean opened the pie box and cut a slice with his hand, offering some to Sam. “Have something to eat, it’ll soak up the booze.” Sam pulled a face.

“No, De.” Sam grimaced, smelling the alcohol infused dessert.

“De.” Dean echoed. “When did you start callin’ me De?” Sam shrugged.

“Out loud, just now. In my head, always.” Sam shrugged again, pressing the back of his hand against his mouth. 

“You gonna throw up?” Dean asked, masterfully changing the subject. 

“Not if you get me some coffee.” Sam said, his words muffled against his hand. Dean gave a sharp nod which made his head spin as he stood up, he took one step past Sam before laying a hand on his shoulder.

"I’d like it if you called me that.” He whispered then disappeared into the kitchen. Sam had turned around and watched Dean stagger out of the library, the words had been sobering and Sam had managed to keep the whiskey down. Was this the moment they had been waiting for? He thought to himself. No, it couldn’t be. Dean had never explicitly said anything about their being together in the biblical sense. There had only ever been that hug. Sam thought about that hug more graphically now. It had been four years ago, or about that and Sam could remember every detail of it. How Dean smelled of sleep, how warm he felt, how his body was pressed so hard against Sam’s. And how he had felt Dean’s-.

“Coffee time.” Dean said cheerfully, clutching one of their Men of Letters mugs which in Sam’s hands looked like a child’s toy tea cup. But it was enough to ease the swirling inside Sam’s belly and Dean was back to singular as Sam felt the hot, slightly burned coffee slide down his gullet. Dean was nowhere near done with the booze and the idea of it somewhat panicked Sam. If Dean got too drunk, would he still be able to perform. 

“No.” Sam said loudly, an involuntary noise that came out of his mouth to halt his thoughts.

“No? Coffee burned, sorry.” Dean said, assuming it was his laziness to put on a fresh pot that had caused Sam’s little outburst.

“It’s fine. It’s hot and I don’t want to throw up.” Sam nodded.  
Dean’s fingers lingered around the neck of the bottle of whiskey, deciding. He looked up at Sam, who had seemed to have shrunk in size and was sitting in his chair like a scolded child.

“Nah, had enough. Don’t wanna wake up tomorrow with no memory of tonight.”

“Why? What’s happening tonight?” Sam said sharply as if he had been found out.

“All this, the effort you went to for my birthday. It’s been nice, y’know. We don’t have enough nice days. Makin’ memories.”  
Sam nodded, slowly working on drinking his coffee to make himself look occupied.

“Y’know, they say that life begins at forty.” Dean nodded, tapping the side of nose as if he were imparting a secret wisdom.

“Uh, yeah. So they say.”

“I mean, what do they mean by that, huh? Surely the best days of your life have gone. School days, college, first job, gettin’ married and havin’ kids.”

“Losing your virginity.” Sam added quietly. “That would go in just before college.”

“Or high school.”

“Gross.” Sam chuckled.

“Late bloomer. That’s okay. I like that. It’s nice. I wish I had waited for someone more special.”

“Regrets?” Sam chewed the inside of his mouth. Discussing sex with Dean only ever went one way. ‘Oh God, last night, Sammy.’ ‘I don’t want to hear about it, Dean.’

“Nah, I learned a long time ago that regrets are a waste of time. They eat you up, stop you from movin’ forward. Ain’t got time for regrets. And besides, I’m forty now and those guys who say it, tell me my life starts on this very day. Everything I do from this day forward, it’s new. Everything before that, that was another life.”

“You think it would be that easy to do that.” Sam was sobering up fast, his rational and cynical mind was back.

“Yeah, why the hell not. Draw a line under the first forty years. Tomorrow is a new day. I’m not wastin’ a minute, Sammy. And I’m gonna do what I shoulda done.”

“What’s that?” Sam swallowed thickly as his brother looked at him intently.

“What do you think?” Dean held his gaze, his left knee nervously shaking.

“I don’t know.” Sam wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, setting the empty cup on the table.

“You do. Just like I knew you did somethin’ for my birthday.”

“I don’t.” Sam insisted.

“C’mon Sammy. I’m going out on a limb here.”

“If you mean-” Sam inhaled sharply. “Maybe we should say it at the same time. And if it all goes to hell we just get Rowena to wipe our minds or something.”

Dean chuckled.

“I don’t think that’s gonna happen, do you?” 

“Fuck.” Sam muttered. Dean raised his eyebrows, he rarely heard his brother cuss. He stood up slowly, sliding his left hand under Sam’s chin.

“I’m going to bed.” Dean said softly but with conviction on the word ‘bed’. He lifted his thumb, rubbing it gently across Sam’s lips. “You should too.” He added before walking through the library to his room.

Sam touched his lips with the tips of his fingers, closing his eyes and reliving the moment. He needed to be sure it had happened and that Dean’s suggestion that he should go to bed was an invitation. It wasn’t a drunken hallucination, Sam was quite sure. He waited for five minutes, or at least that had been his intention. He made it to three. Sam knew that Dean was in his room even though it was dark when he went inside, the light from the hallway cast a strip of yellow luminescence across the bed, his clothes were in a pile on the floor. Since their rooms were identical in layout, it was easy for Sam to walk around to his side of the bed once the closed door had blocked out all the light. There was no way that Dean was still awake and he hadn’t asked Sam what the hell he was doing in his room as Sam stripped down to his boxers then tentatively climbed into bed. He felt Dean the moment he laid back, the beds in the bunker had never been a decent size. Sam slept diagonally most nights.  
Dean couldn’t see Sam, but he had heard the rustle of clothing and obviously felt the unusually large dip the bed made when Sam got in beside him. He could also tell that they were facing one another, Dean could smell the coffee on Sam’s breath. He reached behind him and fumbled with the switch on the night light, hearing Sam inhale sharply and then swallow so loudly, he gulped.

“It’s okay, we’re on the same page. I just need to see you, Sammy.” Dean said as light filled the room, soft not harsh. Warm and cozy. Sam was partially hidden from the nose down, holding the sheet against his face which Dean tugged down with a light chuckle and those kind eyes. “You gonna give me a birthday kiss?”

“Was thinkin’ about it.” Sam smirked, his voice lazy and shy. He felt stupid, like a 13 year old on the brink of his first ever kiss.

“Only got fifteen minutes left of it, so you better be quick.”

“H-how about you give me a kiss to say thank you for your gifts?” Sam bit his lip, feeling a little more confident by giving Dean the upper hand, which the older Winchester always enjoyed. Sam laid on his back, his left arm above his head. Dean leaned over, rubbing his nose against Sam’s playfully, grinning at him. “Jesus.” Sam said as a whisper.

“He ain’t gonna help ya.” Dean’s voice was deep and plain as he followed his words with a kiss, just soft at first. His lips, thicker than Sam’s and covered his brothers mouth entirely. Sam couldn’t kiss back at first, he wanted to take it in so he could remember what Dean’s mouth felt like for the first time. But when he did, they just sank into it, like they had been doing it forever. It didn’t come as a shock to Sam that Dean would be good at it, with a mouth like Dean’s it would be a damn waste to not know how to use it the right way. Sam laid a hand over Dean’s back and felt his brothers hand slid over his stomach, his fingertips grazing the waistband of his underwear. “Take ‘em off.” Dean muttered into Sam’s mouth. And Sam complied, one arm stretching across his stomach, pushing them down and then under his back to ease them over his hip. They had only reached his ankles when Dean moved over his body and Sam felt his brother naked and hard against him. He was heavy but his body felt soft in places, his belly and his ass, fleshy and warm. 

Between short episodes of sleep, they kissed all night and until the early hours of the morning. A test as it were, making up for lost time too. In sleep and when awake, they were fused together. Long sessions of deep kissing, locked into one anothers bodies. Dean had laid a hand on the curve of the small of Sam’s back and told him that he liked it. Sam grabbed at Dean’s ass, sinking his fingers into it like it was dough. He told Dean he liked that too. By 7am, Dean could hear some of the hunters returning from their cases that Sam had cleverly handed out. Sam watched him walk naked to the door, wedging a chair under the knob to keep people out. 

“I ain’t done with you yet.” Dean said, watching Sam watch him. 

“I’m not a one time thing, De.” Sam said, only half joking. 

“You never have been and never will be and besides, it’s been a long while since we had a little ‘we’ time.” Sam chuckled at that, remembering when Dean had first used that phrase. Sam had his arm in a sling and Dean was Dean again. “What’s so funny?” Dean looked down at his naked self.

“It’s definitely not that.” Sam said, chewing the inside of mouth. Dean placed his hands on his hips, posing like a superhero. 

“Come here.” Sam clicked his fingers and Dean obediently laid next to him. “My jaw aches, because of all the kissing.” Sam held his chin with his long fingers, mouth open, moving his jaw from side to side. 

“You should be so lucky, I gotta deal with that.” Dean said, poking Sam’s dick through the sheets.

“Knock it off, De.” Sam rolled his eyes but it was short lived as Dean vanished under the sheets which made Sam make a high pitched noise he didn’t think he was capable of. It went straight in, no messing about. No teasing, no gentle exploration. Sam could feel Dean’s uvula press against the head of his dick and then slide down to the top of his shaft. It made Sam’s eyes water, he couldn’t imagine what it was doing to his brothers. He imagined Dean as a cartoon, his eyes bulging out of their sockets on stalks. He couldn’t hide the giggle. There was a slurp and a smack as Dean pulled off, throwing the sheets back, his mouth a little wet. 

“Did I do somethin’ funny? Because I should get a medal or somethin’ for doin’ that.” Dean smirked, Sam shook his head then gave Dean a nudge with his knee.

“Don’t stop.” And Dean didn’t, right up until and little after Sam was stifling his moans with his forearm across his mouth and coming so hard, he felt like he was going to pass out. Sam had bitten into his arm and left two neat sets of teeth marks in his skin. Dean looked drunk with victory and laid over Sam’s body, his chin resting between his brothers rib cage.

“And that’s what I’m like. It was my birthday and you get the blow job.” Dean smirked, kissing Sam’s chest every so often.

“Wasn’t expecting it.” Sam said plainly. “Kinda surprised by it.”

“Why?”

“I just didn’t think you would be up for that kind of thing. You sleep with girls.”

“So do you.” Dean countered. 

“Not because I wanted to, not really.” 

“Same.” Dean said, his voice tinged with sadness. “Makes me feel kinda guilty, going around like I have been.”

“You never promised anyone anything, De. I mean, yeah, Lisa but it was one time. One time for me too. You came back to me.”

“And you came back to me.”

Sam nodded once as if putting a period at the end of that particular discussion.

“You said, no regrets. Life begins today.”

Dean licked his bottom lip, nodding against Sam’s body.

“You have perfectly round nipples.”

“De, c’mon.” Sam chuckled lightly, feeling a little coy.

“Hey, I’m just tryin’ to lighten the mood, sweetheart.” Dean winked and Sam’s belly flipped.

“I love you.” Sam almost spelled the words out, keen to make them mean exactly what they mean. Not a hollow sentiment that any one can say but a true declaration, serious and long overdue in being said.

“I love you too.” And it came back at him as easy as anything. 

“I don’t know why, but I was scared you wouldn’t say it back.”

“Well, that’s just stupid. I think I’ve shown you enough over the years without havin’ to say it.” 

“What have you done?” Sam said, reaching behind his head to adjust the pillows as if settling down for a bedtime story. Dean thought for a few moments, Sam laid back patiently and waited.

“Nah, I can’t. If I say it all out loud it sounds like a frickin’ Hallmark card and anyways, you know what I’ve been through, Sammy.”

“Play along, De.” Sam sounded younger, like he used to when he was on the phone to Dean begging him to come and get him when all he had for company was Sully.

“I’ve died for you, I’ve sold my soul and gone to Hell and back. I gave up what I always thought I wanted, a family. I broke hearts for you. I made a deal with Death and prayed to God to keep you safe. I always said, there’s nothin’ I would put before you. Nothin’. I wasn’t lyin’ then and I ain’t lyin’ now. It ain’t about you bein’ my brother, it was keepin’ you close and safe so that one day, someone would see fit to give us a damn break so we can be together. Like this, just us. Stripped bare of everythin’. To have somethin’ that is just ours, no one will be a part of it, or want a piece of it. Everyone knows our business, how Mom died, how Dad sacrificed himself for us. Hell, they even know how many times we died and came back but no one, not a soul will ever know about this. It’s ours and it’s sacred.” Dean had barely blinked during his candid soliloquy, Sam on the other hand was fighting back tears. His chin wobbled as he tried to hold onto some kind of dignity when in reality he wanted to allow himself to break down, but Dean wasn’t about to let him. He took hold of one of Sam’s hands and held it against his own mouth. “You got that? This is ours. We deserve this, and we deserve each other. Don’t you go losin’ it, Sammy. My life begins today and I ain’t havin’ you ballin’ your eyes out and makin’ it all wet.” Dean chuckled, cleverly concealing a tear or two himself. Sam nodded, inhaling deeply.

“How do we keep it a secret, De? We have a lot of people here now and Cas just shows up unannounced. And Mom, what about Mom?”

“We keep it low key here, we take on more cases. We’ll tell Cas, I trust him and you trust him, okay?” Dean kissed Sam’s hand with meaning, his brother nodded. “As for Mom, well we’re her kids. And we never got the chance to keep secrets, maybe this is our chance.” Dean chuckled lightly. “We’ll work it out.”

“You seem to have this all planned out already.”

“Have done, for many, many years. I’ve been waitin’ for you for a long time, kiddo.”

“Me too.” Sam sighed heavily as he heard footsteps pass the door. “We should go out there, I mean. Not together. You go and then I’ll follow.”

“I kinda like this sneakin’ around. It feels naughty.”

“You would.” Sam climbed out of bed, Dean’s chance to see Sam upright and naked for the first time. Sam was surprised how easy it felt as he knelt down, fishing around in the pocket of his pants. Dean was now on his stomach, leaning over the bed to look at Sam’s ass, which hadn’t gone unnoticed. Sam pulled a rubber band from his pocket, turned to look at his brother then pulled his hair up into a very short bun.

“Uh, what are you doin’?” Dean chuckled lightly.

“I always do this when I wash my face.” Sam nodded toward the sink.

“I ain’t ever seen you do it and I lost count the amount of times we’ve shared a bathroom.”

“I do it when you’re not around.”

“Why?” 

“Because I knew you would tease me for it.” Sam said, padding over to Dean’s vanity sink.

“I probably would have. But uh-.” Dean got up from the bed and placed himself behind Sam at the sink, one hand holding the exposed nape of Sam’s neck. “-you know in school, when there’s this one kid who would tease this one poor girl. It’s because he liked her.” Dean nodded, catching Sam’s reaction in the reflection of the mirror.

“So, all this time you liked my hair when you were telling me to get it cut? Oh man, I wish I had called your bluff.” Sam smirked, bent over and rinsed his face and Dean stole the opportunity to give Sam’s ass a firm spank. And so it begins, Sam thought to himself. Dean snuck out first, fully dressed and drenched in body spray because he ‘smelled of sex’, Sam followed a few minutes later clutching a manila folder of cases to make himself look busy and important and to take his mind from the fact that only half an hour previously had Dean’s mouth wrapped around his dick. 

“Hey Chief.” Sam paused in the hallway and spun on his heels.

‘Hey, what have you got for me?”


	3. Chapter 3

It had been only 24 hours and Dean was wandering around the bunker like a lost puppy. Every time Dean had passed a note to Sam for him to meet in his room, something came up. A case to assign, Mary and Bobby stopped by for dinner, someone broke a cup. And Dean was becoming increasingly impatient. Sam was sat at the library table with a group of hunters when his phone went off. It was Dean texting from the kitchen.

“Isn’t Dean in the kitchen getting coffee?” One of the hunters said, cocking his head to read the message which Sam halted by turning his phone over.

“Yeah, he’s still pissed about the cup.” 

“Must have been an expensive cup.”

Sam gave one of his half smiles which he often did when he had nothing else to add about explaining away Dean’s odd behavior. He then gathered together the paperwork from the table, making his excuses.

“I should go check on him.” Sam said, scurrying off to the kitchen.

“Hey, finally.” Dean grinned as Sam walked into the kitchen.

“Dean, you can’t go around sending me texts with emojii’s of peeled banana’s. People saw.”

“Maybe they just thought I was hungry. And they would be right.” Dean smirked.

“Listen, we talked about this, Dean. We said we were going to be careful.”

“And that means zero fun while we work, huh.” Dean filled his new giant birthday mug with coffee which used up half of the pot.

“Dean, when have we ever had fun at work?” 

“Don’t know about you, Sammy but ganking a few evil sons of bitches, that’s pretty fun.” Dean sighed, catching Sam’s expression. “Okay, I get it but I miss you, we ain’t had two seconds alone together for 24 hours now. So, I’m gonna find us some cases so we can get out of here.”

“Fine, but stop sending me sexts. Okay?"

“Buzz kill.”

 

*

 

It must have taken Sam about an hour before he realized that they were driving in the wrong direction. But he could tell by the serenely happy expression on Dean’s face that he knew exactly where they were going.

“I know you’re up to something.” Sam watched Dean’s face as the street lamps left streaks of amber light across his face every couple of meters.

“Of course you do. I know you ain’t stupid, Sammy. Point is, what am I up to."

“I don’t know, I haven’t gotten that far yet.”

“So, those cases you found us? Small fry, I distributed them amongst the other hunters. They’re so eager to please you, it’s kinda sweet, ‘chief’.” Dean chuckled, glancing at Sam.

“Okay, I’m gonna ask. Why?”

“Because, Sammy. I want us to have some time alone. One night in my room with a chair wedged against the door after havin’ to wait for so long, it ain’t cuttin’ it, so we’re goin’ away for a few days. Call it an early birthday present.” 

Sam opened his mouth to speak, Dean heard the soft exhale.

“You gonna complain about it?”

“No.” Sam whispered then after a beat. “But.”

“Oh here it comes.” Dean sighed heavily.

“It’s just, don’t you think we’re shirking our responsibilities?”  
“Shirkin’ our-? Hey, if people want to take our slack, then Sammy, I’m okay with that. Don’t you think, that for just one week out of hundreds, that we might actually deserve this. We stopped doin’ Vegas week a long time ago. This is our time, I don’t think anyone is gonna deny us some time off.”

“You’re right. Of course. You’re right.” Sam nodded, laying a hand on Dean’s thigh.

“I’m always right, Sammy.”

It was sunset when they arrived at the prettily situated cabin which sat neatly against the bank of a river, completely encased in acres of forest. Secluded and picturesque. Sam couldn’t remember the last time he had pulled up in Baby outside a remote cabin and actually stopped to look at the view surrounding it. Mostly it had been a safe house or somewhere to work on a case but this time, it was different. This time it was a vacation.

“Dean, whose cabin is this?” Sam said, grabbing his bag from the back seat.

“Ours."

“Ours, what? How is it ours. You dabbling in real estate now?”

“Heh, I guess I am.” Dean grinned, breathing in the fresh air of the pines around them.

“Dean, we can barely afford gas sometimes, how did you afford this?”

“Does it matter? We have a country retreat, enjoy it.” Dean locked eyes with his brother who was glued to the ground, waiting for an explanation. “Okay, fine. I sold a few of the Men of Letters cars in the garage. Those beauties were mint, Sammy. Got me a cabin and little left over for a rainy day.” Dean’s voice was all sing song and pride.

“You sold the cars, Dean. Did it ever occur to you that they might be cursed or something. Who did you sell them to?”

“People. And, Sammy. They weren’t cursed, just regular cars. They were takin’ up space.” Dean scoffed then shrugged. “It ain’t like I unleashed a bunch of Christine’s onto the public.” He took a few steps toward Sam, running a hand across Sam’s temple, fingers teasing his hair. “Enjoy it, please? I did this for us.”

"I know.” Sam leaned into the touch, grazing the heel of Dean’s hand with his lips. “Thank you.” He whispered.

Within an hour of their arriving at the cabin, Dean had Sam naked and on his back in bed. He had one arm laid across his eyes, the other flat on the bed beside him, his hand gripping the bed sheets. Dean’s hands were holding Sam’s legs open and he was sucking Sam’s ass hole with an intensity that was making Sam whine like a dog.

"Just relax, I wanna get my tongue inside ya.” Dean said deeply from between Sam’s ass cheeks. Sam managed a nod and a meek ‘Okay’. A third of Dean’s tongue disappeared inside his brother, he tried a gentle tongue fuck but couldn’t get any rhythm going. “I ain’t good at this.” Dean sat up a little, Sam moved the arm from across his face and looked down at Dean.

“I liked it.”

“Yeah?” Dean licked a stripe along the shaft of Sam’s cock. His brother nodded shyly. “I really want to fuck you.” Dean nuzzled Sam’s cock roughly with his nose making Sam gasp.

“I’m not sure, De. I like what we’re doing.”

“I’ll go slow, I won’t hurt you. I just, I need to be inside you. Want to know how it feels.”

“It takes a lot prep and practice.”

“We got time, we can do anythin’ this week, sweetheart.”

“A week? I thought we were only here for a couple of days.” Sam sat up slowly rubbing his eyes.

“Nope, we got a whole week to ourselves.”

“I think, that by the end of it, I won’t want to go back.” Sam chuckled lightly.

For the rest of the first day, the boys lounged about in the living room, drinking beer and kissing whenever the mood took them. Dean walked around naked or half naked, Sam a little more demurely wrapped in a blanket which he held around his waist whenever he needed to get up and move around.

“I never took you for shy.” Dean said, eying the curve of Sam’s back as he stood in the kitchen making coffee with one hand.

“I’m not shy, De. But this is all new to me. To both of us.”

“You were just a little more ‘giggly’ on the night of my birthday.”

“So were you, first night nerves for both of us. I just guess it’s just taking a little time for me to get used to it. But I like it.” Sam caught Dean’s expression. “I love it.” He walked back into the living room with his coffee because planting himself onto Dean’s lap.

“Heavy.” Dean grunted but smiled through the pain.

“But you’re right, we do need this time together. It’s like we’re getting to know brand new things about each other. There are things you don’t know about me, De. Things that would shock you.”

“That so?” Dean cocked an eyebrow. ‘We talkin’ sex stuff here, or?”

“What do you think?” Sam let the blanket fall down from his waist, showing enough ass to make Dean drool a little.

“There is more to me than books and lore and rational thinking, darlin’.” 

“Jesus.” Dean breathed.

“He’s not going to help you either.” Sam beamed, taking a dainty sip from his mug of coffee.

It hadn’t gone unnoticed by Dean that Sam, after finally relaxing had changed a little. Just a little. As if he was allowing Dean to see a completely different side of himself that he had reserved purely for his brother. It was unsettling at first and to save Sam’s embarrassment, Dean didn’t breath a word. He just observed, wanting to ensure that he hadn’t been mistaken in any way and that what he was seeing was really Sammy. In all of their time together, Sam had seemed guarded, in many ways. It was only when he was high on demon blood or wandering around without a soul for 12 months did Dean ever see a more devil may care Sam. Usually he was all stoic calm, like a majestic redwood, proud, steady and silent. But new Sam, or ‘Cabin Sam’ as Dean had silently coined the phrase was beautiful and about as tactile as Dean could handle. Sam was still smart though and he knew that Dean was newly beguiled by him which only encouraged his behavior even more.

Sam would tie his hair up often, not just when he was washing his face and Dean would sit staring at the back of his bare neck, like he was some Victorian lady daringly baring an ankle revealing forbidden flesh. He would sometimes tie a flannel in a knot around his rib cage and pair it with a set of tight boxer briefs, an item of clothing Dean had never once seen in amongst the laundry when it was his turn to visit the Laundromat. Most of the time, Sam left Dean scratching his head and by the end of the second day, he could keep it in no longer.

“Sammy, what’s with the cowgirl flannel thing?” 

“It’s comfortable.”

“The hair?”

“Keeps it out of my eyes.”

“The tiny boxer briefs?”

“Oh, I’ve got underwear smaller than those.” Sam said breezily. 

“Care to enlighten me?”

“Not yet.” Sam glanced up from a book as he sat legs out, taking up the whole couch, leaving the armchair to Dean.

“What are you tryin’ to tell me?”

“Nothing De, you’re asking the questions and I’m just giving you the answers.”

Dean felt like he was being played, that he had finally got what he wanted but that it was all a huge trick. He even sprinkled some holy water into Sam’s morning coffee to check that his brother wasn’t possessed by some demon wanting to humiliate a Winchester. Sam even passed a silverware test. That evening, Sam had laid out beer and the rest of Dean’s birthday whiskey on the coffee table in the living room. 

“I’m thinking we should talk.” Sam announced dressed in Dean’s heavy gray Men of Letters robe and pouring him out a glass with a finger of liquor in it. 

“Awesome.” Dean said flatly.

“I’ve noticed how you’ve been watching me, De. And it’s okay. Question is, have you liked what you’ve been seeing.” Sam offered Dean his glass, his brother nodded slowly. “Well, that’s a good start.”

“You look hot. I like seein’ your body on show like that. It’s kinda feminine.”

“I’m happy you noticed and happier you like it.”

“What are you tellin’ me, Sammy?” 

Sam stood up, untying the robe slowly. He looked Dean dead in the eyes and opened it then instinct told him to look away, suddenly embarrassed.

“Okay.” Dean spoke slowly, but Sam was quick to decide what the tone of Dean’s reaction could mean and wrapped himself back in the robe.

“Forget it.” 

“Hey hey. No it’s okay.” Dean moved next to Sam, their hips bumping together. “Hey, look at me.” His voice was low now, soft and coaxing. “You look beautiful.” Dean slid a hand inside the robe, Sam flinched but his brother kept on, moving his hand down over the underwear. It was a jockstrap, pure white with a baby blue waistband and straps. “Well, you are full of surprises.” Dean muttered, head down, opening the robe. “Got more like this?”

“Uh huh.” Sam nodded as Dean ran a hand over Sam’s dick. 

“You ever, uh, think of me while you’re wearin’ ‘em?”

“All the time.” Sam’s words were breathy. “It’s you, De.”

"How so?” Dean was still engrossed, fingering the jockstrap and shaping the outline of Sam’s cock with his middle finger.

“You make me think things, do things.”

“Tell me what you think about when you’re alone in your room, door wedged shut, thinkin’ about me.” There was no eye contact, Sam couldn’t manage that yet and Dean knew, keeping his head low, giving his brother some privacy. 

“You do what you’re doing now.” Sam was muttering, his head tipped back, his eyes closed.

“Tell me.” Dean made himself comfortable, his hand moving inside Sam’s underwear, his middle finger pressing against his brothers ass hole.

“Y-you’re doing what you’re doing now. Playing with me, you’re inside me.” Sam gasped as Dean’s middle finger pushed inside his hole. “I’m begging for it, begging you.” Sam whined the last word out, Dean’s cock pulsed at the sound of Sam’s words. His finger curled up inside his brother, a knuckle pushing against Sam’s prostate.

“Let me fuck you, sweetheart.” Dean said deeply. “I wanna, so bad.”

“Yes, please.” Sam whined, he was a heap of neediness. The big chief reduced to mere putty in Dean’s hands. 

They found themselves in the bedroom, mid afternoon. The sun was shining, streaming through the thin drapes that hung loosely over the window, the soft chill of late January catching the fabric and casting a wave of goosebumps over their naked bodies. Sam was on his back, Dean knelt between his legs dick in hand, hard and wet with lubrication. It had been easier for Sam not to look at his brother initially but now, nothing could stop him from looking at him. He needed to see him and as closely as possible, as Dean leaned over his brother, kneading his thighs apart, dick in hand, leading himself inside Sam blindly, so they could watch. It was about the whole experience. It wasn’t just a quick fuck, it was the crescendo to the slowest burn in history. There was resistance from Sam at first, his body, not his mind but Dean was there, right in his face. His eyes told him that it was okay and that he was there and he was there, right inside his brother, as deep and as slow as he could go. It wasn’t even about the act nor the need to fuck, it was about closeness. Sam had once knelt next to his brother, Dean’s guts in his hands, that wasn’t close, that was tragedy and grief. But now, they were as close as two people can be. And perhaps it wasn’t even about love, but a deep connection that not even death could put an end too. Dean thought, had always thought when he imagined this day, that if anyone should be permitted to this, if anyone deserved the right to make love to someone so profoundly and genetically connected to his own self, then it cannot ever be wrong.

There was no hurry to ‘get off’, to climax or to gain anything from it selfishly. It was their note to the world that they were one, side by side, together, the Winchesters. This is us.  
Dean didn’t come particularly hard and Sam didn’t come at all, and the older Winchester stayed inside his brother for as long as his body would allow it. It wasn’t sex, it was ‘I am bound to you now’. And the fact was, they always have been but it changed, switched into something entirely more intense and private. The erotically co-dependent observations of all and sundry around them had been solidified by this one act. Dean just wished that he had figured it out by himself. Sex by ritual it had been. There had been no post coital jokes from Dean. Nor had Sam slipped away to the bathroom to ‘clean up’. Instead they lay as they were, cold with sweat, sticky and stayed with one another.

“I ain’t ever lettin’ you out of my sight again.” Dean said seriously, holding onto his brother tighter than he ever had.

“I’m frightened now.”

 

*

 

What had begun as teenage fumbling in a locked bedroom, the physical nature of their relationship had switched. Dean always liked to inject a little comedy into the bedroom but even he knew that anything humorous just didn’t fit. Their kisses were intense, long, deep and probing. Orgasms were of a level neither had experienced, touching was mannered and explorative. If Dean could have turned his brother inside out, he would have gladly. ‘I know you, but I want to know what your lungs taste like.’ For the entire week, Sam felt like he was on the edge of a precipice, even the brush of Dean’s hand across his back felt as if his brother was sliding a hand inside him and tending gently and lovingly to his soul. Dean was consistently ‘charged’ too, even his clothes aroused him as he moved about, cleaning up after dinner or just walking from one room to the next. After all the years of ‘what if’, neither imagined that their coming together would feel in any way like this. 

“We’re in serious trouble.” Dean said on the last night, laying his fork down on his plate then wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. They hadn’t talked about it, neither had seen the point when it was happening all around them. Do, don’t say.

“I know.” Sam leaned back, nodding in agreement.

“What are we gonna do?”

“I don’t know.”

And that was where the conversation ended. It was a conversation they’d had many times before. ‘What are we gonna do about Yellow-Eyes/the apocalypse/Lucifer/Dick Roman/et al?’ And usually there was something they could do about it, but no amount of exorcising, demon killing blades or borax was ever going to fix them. Not that they wanted fixing, they were good, Dean had added but they also had a job to do and people were clamoring for their attention, day in day out, month after month, year after year. What would happen to the world if the Winchester’s just quietly packed away their cache of weapons and slipped away, falling off the edge of the earth to let other people deal with it all? Dean couldn’t even remember a story about a hunter hanging up their plaid and retiring to some far flung corner of the globe to live out their days in peace and calm. Dean had met people he never saw in his life who knew him, the Winchesters were notorious. Heroes amongst their kind. And what of the villains in all this. They all knew Sam and Dean Winchester too. They feared them, revered them. Were they just going to let the boys retire, leave them alone forever and prey on other hunters? There was literally nowhere left for them to hide themselves. Sam was sure in his heart that both he and Dean had repented enough to avoid Hell (again), through their work they had confessed, saved souls. Would heaven take them in, after everything. The most trusted of all ‘organizations’, but corrupt and broken. 

Dean thought long and hard about the complications closer to home. Cas would be initially confused but Dean believed accepting. Now well versed, to a degree by the ways of the world. He would know that it’s morally wrong but Dean knows that Cas loves them both, no matter what.

“Mom can’t ever know.” Sam said gravely. That comment killed dinner entirely. After a long five minutes of silence in which Dean was sure Sam could hear his mind working like Baby’s engine, he spoke.

“Okay. We go back, business as usual. We work, we take on as many cases as we can. And-” Dean stopped as Sam interjected.  
‘Dean, do you honestly think we can? Just walk back in like nothing has happened. It would be different if it was just us in the bunker but we can’t just tell everyone to leave.”

“How did you know I was gonna say that?” Dean smirked, a little chuckle working his way up from his chest.

“Because I know you.” Sam said flatly. “And I don’t want to go back to a life entirely living on the road again.”

“We did it before.”

“And now we don’t have to. You like your room, you like that we have a kitchen and a decent shower. You really want to walk away from all that?”

“For you, I’d walk away from every last damn thing, Sammy.”

“Even Mom?”

“She ain’t hardly ever around, hell, she’s the only hunter I know who won’t ever stop.”

“Ah, and I thought that was you.” Sam grinned at his brother.

“Things have changed. Everything has changed. I just wanna go, Sammy. I just want us.”

“I know.”

Baby’s back seat was loaded with their week-away luggage, the boys in their usual arrangement at the front. Sam glanced at his brother, both were holding their phones. Dean nodded and in sync they switched them on. Sam’s buzzed almost constantly for two whole minutes, while Dean’s beeped and rang and tringed until he could find the button to put it on silent.

“This is bullshit.” Dean threw his phone on the seat beside him as it churned out texts, emails, missed call notifications and voice mail messages. “Bullshit.” Dean added.

“I have hundreds.” Sam said, laying his phone next to Dean’s. “I don’t want to go back.”

Dean turned his head slowly like an inquisitive owl. 

“You serious?”

“Deadly. De, does anyone know about this place?”

“Uh, no. You, me and uh, the realtor. But I uh, I gave her a fake name. She was real old. I don’t think she’d even remember me, Sammy.”

“Okay.” Sam nodded once. “I think I have a plan.”


	4. Chapter 4

Sam’s ‘Master Plan’ was discussed in the car back to Lebanon and then put into action by Dean the moment he walked back inside the bunker declaring that there hadn’t been a moment to lose. The boys had enjoyed a long, lingering kiss in the Impala in a dark corner of the garage before they put on their game faces. Sam was Chief and Dean was ‘the other one’. And for once, Dean was fine with that. He was also fine with leaving Sam to deal with the barrage of questions and ‘where have you beens?’ ‘You got more patience than me, sweetheart.’ Dean had said.  
Sam was glad of the distraction, at least for a few hours he wasn’t thinking about Dean. Or at least his brother wasn’t in the forefront of his mind slowly licking his sensory cortex like a whiskey flavored Popsicle. And so he answered questions, solved problems, took phone calls, identified the contents of a hex bag and BS’d every person who asked where he and Dean had been for so long. Out of the two of them, Sam was the more convincing liar. ‘It’s the puppy dog eyes.’ Dean had said. Castiel was little harder to convince and later in the day, Sam brought Dean for back up. Cas had looked at them both with such a deep frown, it had unsettled Dean.

“Hey, Cas.” Dean clicked his fingers. “Is that your sex face?” Sam had kicked Dean for that.

“Your mother has been worried.” Cas said seriously.

“Yeah well, she didn’t think twice about takin’ off with Ketch for weeks on end.” Dean raised his eyebrows at the angel. “Ketch.” He added for extra emphasis. 

“You have a point, Dean.” Cas nodded through narrowed eyes, not entirely convinced with the lie. And in any case, Cas was their brother in all but blood and who knows anyone better than brothers. But Cas would know the truth eventually and Dean was not looking forward that conversation. As much as Cas knew stuff these days, it was still like explaining some adult stuff to a 7 year old. Whether he would be supportive or at least help them conceal their secret. Well, the jury was still out on that one.

Mary hadn’t been around much, neither had other world Bobby, who despite looking like real Bobby and having the same gnarly persona, didn’t know the boys well enough. Dean insisted his opinion didn’t matter and anyway, like Mary, he would be kept in the dark too. Their plan wasn’t to fall off the face of the earth, just to retire together to an undisclosed locale.

 

*

 

Dean had been shut in his room for two hours, Sam had dealt with all the urgent business and sought his brother out, who was standing by his bed with a trash bag half full of porn.

“Hey, you get everyone settled down?”

“Pretty much. Dean, what are you doing?”

“Throwing some stuff out.” Dean said, waving a copy of Busty Asian Beauties at his brother. Sam chuckled.

“I never understood why you liked those.”

“It was cover.” Dean said plainly, dropping the magazine in the bag.

“Cover?”

“Yeah, I figured that if I was gonna conceal the fact I was jerkin’ off thinkin’ about you, I might as well make everyone think I had a kink. I mean, as ruses go. You ain’t busty or Asian, heh.” Dean chuckled. 

“Well, there’s a logic there, I guess.” Sam said, unconvinced. "Dean?”

“Yeah.”

“Why are you doing all this?”

“Because it’s a fresh start, Sammy. I ain’t got a use for any of this crap any more.” Dean said, examining a large hatchet. “Only thing we gonna need this for. Is for cuttin’ up steaks.”

“I don’t have a lot of stuff. Books, I guess.” Sam moved around the room, dragging a chair toward the door and wedging it under the knob, giving it a little shake to check its strength. Dean watched him and stood up straight, as if bracing himself. 

“I just got my records and photos, a few books. And-” Dean’s mouth was inside Sam’s before he could speak another word. It was one of those out of the moment, take your breath away kisses that you see in movies. Sam had complete control of the situation, Dean still gripping the trash bag, his head in Sam’s large capable hands. 

“I couldn’t help myself.” Sam said after pulling away, leaving Dean’s stupidly full lips, shiny and plumper than usual. Dean opened his mouth to speak but Sam stopped him again with a long finger against his lips.

“Don’t say ‘You can help yourself anytime’.” Sam smirked.

“I wasn’t gonna.”

“Ah, but you were thinkin’ about it. You don’t have to turn on the ‘cheese’ with me, De. Just you as you are works fine for me.” Sam said lazily and not so subtly adjusting the erection in his pants. He gave Dean a playful slap on the ass before walking toward the door. “The sooner you finish, the sooner we can leave. It’s empty out there.” Sam nodded in the general direction of the war room. “Cas is staying for food, he’s gone to get pizza. We’re going to tell him tonight.”

Dean could do little more than offer a coquettish nod. With a quick glance around the room and a fast dash to the far side to grab a handful of car magazines and some old out take out boxes, Dean considered his work there done and tied up the bag. He was soon chasing Sam up the hall way. 

“I’m done.”

“That was fast.”

“You said pizza.” Dean grinned and stole the moment, holding Sam’s hand as they walked through to the library. Just feeling the webbing of their fingers touching was enough to make Dean’s head spin. He knew Sam was feeling it too, reluctantly he let go and they sat down. Opposite sides of the table as always.  
The heavy metal door to the bunker creaked open and the plodding footsteps of Castiel on the grated staircase echoed around the atrium. 

“Why does he always walk down those stairs like he’s about to be hung?” Dean chuckled in a low tone.

“I heard that, Dean.” Cas was smiling as he set down two pizza’s and large bag of assorted sides on the table. “Why do I sense that this isn’t just dinner.” 

Dean had guilt written all over his face which at that point didn’t really matter.

“Your Spidey Senses are spot on, Cas.” Dean chuckled  
nervously. Sam kicked him again then sat up straight.

“We have something to tell you. And uh, we could really use your trust and understanding.” Sam nodded, giving Castiel a gentle smile. Cas suddenly looked grave, sitting down slowly, glancing at Dean and then back at Sam. 

“And try not to be grossed out.”

“Dean.” Sam sighed. “Don’t.”

“What? I’m just warnin’ him.”

“Dean and I, we’re leaving."

“Retirin’.” Dean added for clarity. Cas frowned then opened up one of the boxes, taking out a slice of pizza. He laughed, before taking a bite.

“That’s a good one. As jokes go, Dean.” Cas chuckled.  
Dean lifted his hands up as a ‘what the hell?’. Neither he nor Sam said another word, choosing instead to stare Castiel down with intent looks.

“You are not joking.” Cas said flatly, losing the little appetite he had which was usually nothing at all. The brothers shook their heads in unison.

“Deadly serious.” Dean gave Cas a weak, apologetic smile.

“Well, I am surprised. Especially at this point in time.”

“When was there ever going to be a right time, Cas?” Dean sighed, reached over for a slice of pizza but changed his mind. “I could use a drink.”

Sam grabbed Dean’s wrist to stop him from getting up, his fingers moved over the back of Dean’s hand and curled around his fingers. And there they stayed.

“We givin’ him a demonstration?” 

Cas glanced at their hands, head cocked to one, his face frozen with curiosity.

‘Dean and I, it’s complicated and I know it might come as a shock to you but we’re together.”

“Sammy, I think you’re goin’ to have to be a little more colorful with your words than that.” Dean chuckled with nerves.

“Then you tell him.” Sam said, losing a little patience.

“Okay, Sam and I. Well, me and Sam. We’re together.”

“Dean, you just said exactly the same words.”

And then the bickering started but Castiel had got it and sat in quiet reflection while the Winchesters argued in low tones.

“I understand your meaning.” Castiel said, his voice a little raised.

“You do?” Dean was surprised.

“You are together, as in the biblical sense.” Cas said flatly. Then after a beat. “I am not sure that Chuck wrote about this.”

“I ain’t gonna lie, but I’m kinda happy he didn’t.” Dean frowned.

“Forgive me, Dean. But I believe that what you and Sam are suggesting is not legal and looked upon with distaste by most if not all of society.” Castiel spoke concisely, his head dipped.

“You can climb down off down the moral high ground, Clarence. We know what it means. You’ve done a bunch of illegal stuff with us, so don’t get all high and mighty.” Dean snapped.

“You misunderstand, I will support you. I just wanted you to know the facts.”

“Well, thanks Dad.”

“Dean.” Sam was in a scolding mood and snapped out his brothers name.

“Cas, thank you. It means the world to us but you can’t tell a soul. No one can know. We’re notorious enough, this is private.”

“I am honored that you trust me enough with something like this.” Castiel nodded, but there was a sadness there.

“We’ll still keep in touch. And I guess there’s a lot more to it that we ain’t tellin’ you but-”

“I understand, Dean. You two have gone above and beyond of what I have asked of you. You both deserve to be happy.” There was a genuine warmth in Castiel’s voice which thawed Dean’s mood.

“You can come and visit, any time you want. You’re our brother, Cas. Always will be. You ain’t losin’ us.”

Cas stood up, sighing heavily before walking over to the tiny bar set up Dean had arranged and grabbed three glasses and the decanter of whiskey.

“Then we should celebrate your freedom.” Cas grinned.

Dean chuckled. He hadn’t thought of it as freedom, he knew that it would be a complete change for both he and Sam but Cas was right, they would be free.

“And for the record.” Cas leaned between his ‘brother’s setting down their glasses. “It is a little gross.”

Laughter echoed around the library as they drank and regained their appetites. Sam announced that he had given Castiel full control of the Men of Letters bunker and that he and Jack could call it their home. Castiel was overcome and could not hide his genuine happiness for them. As a celestial being, his work would never been done for as long as he was permitted to walk upon the earth. But the two men, his brothers who sat before him were the most worthy of hanging up their guns and living a life less extraordinary.

 

*

 

MARY

If it meant having my boys safe, then the announcement of their retirement is okay by me. I never wanted them ‘in the life’, it was why I retired, or at least tried to. John and I had a family, he was the reason I walked away from it all, or at least tried to. And that is my only problem. Dean. Dean is me, when he has an itch he has to scratch it and I wonder if the boys know something I don’t.  
I come from a long line of hunters that go way back past colonial times. The Campbell’s come from Scotland originally and yes, I am descended from the infamous Clan Campbell who fought Clan McDonald at The Battle of Glencoe. And yes, it had been an entirely supernatural battle. But that’s another story for another time. Hunting is in our blood, it’s not something we all just fell into. And on John’s side, they are Men of Letters. Hunting was their destiny. As I mother, I was torn. Who was I to tell them to keep themselves safe when there isn’t even a part of me who wants to do that for myself. But on the other hand, they’re my babies. Four years old and six months old, my innocent sweet boys who grew into the bravest men the world never knew.  
I won’t stop, I can’t now. I’m too old but if my boys want to live out the rest of their lives in peace, who am I to argue. Whatever the real reason, a mothers instinct tells me there is something more, I am happy for them. All I can do now is keep them from harms way, conceal them, lie for them, keep them safe.

JACK

I haven’t known Sam and Dean for very long. But I have known them all of my life and what I see are two good men. My brothers. Castiel has told me so many stories about their bravery and many about them as just people because that’s what they are. Just two people who take on everything that is thrown at them and I don’t know how they did it. When I was without my powers, I felt useless and learning to defend myself without them was tiring and hard work. This only made me respect Sam and Dean even more. The idea of going into a fight with a supernatural being with only a gun and a fragile human body was terrifying, but they do it every day. They don’t get medals, or any real thanks and they don’t expect it.  
When Castiel told me that they were going to retire, I was pleased for them. I admit that I was a little disappointed because hunting with the Winchester’s had become something I enjoyed. It was noble and brave, and gave me the chance to prove myself. That just because of my lineage it didn’t mean that I was that way too. I wanted to help and I hope that I did. And I will continue to do so, in their honor. With my father, Castiel at my side.  
I know that I will see them from time to time but it will be strange living in the bunker without them. And not just because they are great hunters, but because they are great men. Dean is funny and Sam is smart and taught me a lot. I really hope they get their wish to live out a normal life, because if anyone deserves one, it’s Sam and Dean Winchester.

BOBBY

I ain’t known those kids for too long but I know enough that their Bobby was like a surrogate father to ‘em and that his passing broke ‘em. And I ain’t ever gonna be that Bobby but I was still willing to fight the good fight alongside ‘em. They ain’t had no life of their own. Ain’t married or had rug rats of their own and if they want to go off and do that, it’s fine by me. Those kids have been through too much in their short lives. Shooting guns and killing monsters so young when they should have been scared of ‘em hiding under their beds. It ain’t no life for a young ‘un.   
I was surprised at their timing. They got a good set-up going at the bunker. A good team of loyal hunters around ‘em, a world full of lore at their fingertips and a cache of supernatural weapons that would make the hunter on the street weep. But when is the best time to give it all up. Evil ain’t ever gonna stop, whether it’s your run of the mill demon or wendigo or just some corrupt human leader of an oppressed society. There is always gonna be people to take up the slack, Sam and Dean are passing it over. And good on ‘em. If only I had walked away when I was 40.

ROWENA

Oh those boys. They should be handed medals just for having to fraternize with my dear, sweet Fergus. A feral child, if ever there was one. Working with the Winchesters wasn’t always about self gain/preservation, or whatever you want to call it. In my icy heart, I do have a soft spot for them. And aye, we use one another but I suppose it’s all dealt with a little humor. Sam and I had a wee chat about Lucifer, even saying the monsters name makes my skin crawl. And, for a wee moment, I let my guard down. I told him how that slice of evil had scared me. Me? Of all people. And that giant of a man, he understood and even offered me sympathy. And I took it.  
I wouldn’t say that the Winchesters have shown me how to be humble, I don’t do humble, I have a public persona to keep in check but they have shown me loyalty and whether Dean Winchester would rather see me burn at the stake or not, they have become assets. Friends would be too much of a stretch, dearie. I suppose I will miss them, just wee bit.

 

*

 

There were no banners, no ticker-tape, no marching bands or inflatable Scooby’s to see the Winchester’s off. No one but Cas knew where they were headed, not even Mary. Sam had urged Dean to make some kind of speech to the assembled. Cas, Mary, Jack, Bobby and the other world hunters. Just because they had done so much and it would look ungrateful to just walk out and never return. Dean was reluctant, the time from telling Cas they were retiring to them actually leaving had taken longer than anticipated. Which meant Dean’s mood was one of whiny impatience. He just wanted to go but Sam wasn’t having any of it.

“Why me? You’re the ‘Chief’.” Dean barked under his breath, and he did air quotes.

“Wow, air quotes really are annoying.” Sam smirked, his arms folded across his chest. 

“Really, Sammy? Wafer thin ice.” Dean dragged his hands slowly down his face, then dropped his head in defeat. “Fine. Fine, I’ll do it. But I ain’t gettin’ all sentimental.”

“No one’s asking you to, De. Just say thank you.”

The boys walked through to the war room where everyone was seated, standing and they were all looking at Dean. They knew they were going, had done for days, so at least Dean didn’t have that task. That task, he had given to Sam.

“Uh, hey everybody. Mom, Cas, Jack.” Dean nodded then nodded toward Sam. “I brought a Sasquatch in for my ‘Show ‘n Tell’.” There was a light sprinkling of laughter around the room but nowhere near what Dean had expected. Mary knew and giggled to herself. “So uh, today’s the day, huh.” Dean glanced around the room, a row of maudlin faces looking back him, except for one. Mary. Just looking at her first born son with absolute pride and love. Dean spoke directly to her. “We ain’t doin’ this because we want to leave you all our crap, I mean we are but honestly, we’re tired. We’re done. And I guess you could say that if we had lived quiet hunter lives. A rugaru here, a witch there, we probably wouldn’t be doin’ this but it’s been a little more intense for us. It’s been hell. But I guess, what I’m tryin’ to say is that, we met a lot of good people. Like you guys, Cas and Jack. You’re our brothers now and always will be. It’s kinda rare for us to find good but man, when we find it. We hold onto it because that was how we was raised. And it wasn’t ideal or normal but I done enough. Me and Sam have done enough. That’s why we deserve this. And I uh, I wanna say thanks. It don’t seem like enough.” Dean chuckled nervously, glancing at his brother for help, wanting so badly to hold his hand.

“No, Dean.” A voice came from the gathered. Monotone, familiar. Cas. The angel stepped past Mary and stood next to Dean, half addressing the Winchesters and the crowd. “Most of us have no understanding of what you and Sam have done. None of them would be here without you two. Without you, we would have nothing. The world would be nothing but dust and desolation. Heaven would be a pile of rubble and life, as we know it now, would not exist.”

“Cas.” Dean chuckled.

“Dean, no. People should know.”

Sam and Dean stood quietly, embarrassed.

“Your bravery and selflessness is beyond anything I have ever known. I cannot pass on any kind of reward but uh-” Cas turned toward the crowd, glancing past Mary and Bobby. A hand waving meekly and then a bearded face stepped out from the back of the room.

“Hey.”

“Oh God.” Dean said with zero irony. ‘It’s like freakin’ This Is Your Life.”

Chuck made his way through the hunters. Dean didn’t know what to do. Hug him, shake his hand, a fist bump? 

“This is so not weird.” Dean muttered in Sam’s direction, who was already in fan boy mode and shaking Chuck’s hand with enthusiasm. “Okay, calm down Annie Wilkes.” Sam shot Dean a look, the look. Dean smiled and nodded, shaking Chuck’s hand like a human being.

“This is uh-” Dean knew the crowd needed some explanation. “-an old huntin’ buddy of ours.”

“This is God.” Cas said plainly. Dean slapped a hand across his face in despair. A few of the hunters chuckled at the absurdity of the claim. 

“It’s a nickname. Because of the beard.” Dean added, Cas looked highly offended but Chuck found the entire exchange amusing. The hunters began to filter out and continue with their work, assuming the speech was over. Which Dean had decided already was, a literal ‘thank, God.’. “Way to kill a party, Chuck.”  
“As if anyone would believe who I was.” Chuck smirked.

“Castiel prayed for me. Told me all about what you hope to do.”

“Hope? Heh.” Dean echoed deeply. “We ain’t hopin’, we doin’. We’re leavin’ now.”

“Ah, my mistake. Perhaps then it was your friend here, hoping to keep hold of you both for a while longer.” Chuck said, glancing at Castiel who was looking a tad sheepish.

“Ain’t no chance of that. All packed and ready to leave.”

“Yeah, we’re definitely retiring, Chuck.” Sam said softly.

“Back up at last, I thought fan boy here had gone mute.” Dean chuckled, throwing a thumb at Sam.

“Well, I have a gift for you both. I suppose you could call it a divine thank you and apology. I’ve left the passing on of it to Castiel here.” Chuck offered his hand to Dean who shook it firmly and then Sam who managed to restrain himself, shaking the hand of the bearded, Converse wearing deity like a normal person. Chuck leaned in between the Winchesters, setting a hand on each of their shoulders.

“And you’re right, I definitely didn’t write about this.” Chuck whispered then with a click of his fingers, vanished before them.

“He knew. I told you he knew.” Dean said to Sam under his breath, incensed.

“He doesn’t mean that, Dean.” Sam muttered behind his hand.

The more personal goodbyes were dragged out a little, but Dean just wanted to get going. It wasn’t like he wasn’t going to see any of these people again and any way, Sam was wearing Dean’s favorite shirt of his and he looked beautiful. Baby, with her cleaned out trunk, all newly valeted for the occasion sat outside the bunker, gleaming in the noon sun. Dean had instructed everyone to remain inside, he didn’t want a wave-off. Just before he had left, Castiel had handed Dean an envelope and asked him to read it on their way to the cabin.  
Dean sat in the passenger seat, having nominated Sam to drive and turned the envelope around with his fingers.

“I didn’t even know Cas could write.”

“De, don’t be mean. Of course he can.” Sam said, turning the Impala around and hitting the road. Neither looked back. “Open it then.”

“Maybe it’s money.” Dean said gleefully.

“You would think that. Just open it.”

And Dean did, the paper was high quality and embossed with a watermark of two spread out angels wings. Dean held the one page letter up to the light.

“Who would have thought it, huh? Heaven has their own stationery brand.” Dean chuckled and read out loud.

To Sam and Dean, 

I am sorry that I didn’t think to buy either of you a going away gift. Jack told me that we should get you something but everything seemed inconsequential in comparison to the level of gratitude I wanted to convey on behalf of myself and all who know you and have been saved by you. So, my only option was to speak with God, or Chuck as you know him.  
My gift, or rather our gift to you is the complete warding of your cabin and its surrounding areas of beauty. You will be warded from all that is bad in this world. Safe. The warding will not be visible to either of you nor to those humans who wish to visit, it will feel like home and like any other free place on earth, except you will be protected.   
Unfortunately, this means that it is warded against Jack and I. But don’t think you won’t see me again, we can always meet outside the warding and it won’t stop phone calls coming through. 

Be at peace and rest now, my brothers.  
With much affection and respect.

Castiel.

Both Sam and Dean were still as Dean folded the letter and pushed back inside the envelope. Sam wiped away a tear from the corner of his eye then felt Dean’s hand settle on his thigh.

“That sneaky SOB.” Dean chuckled. Overcome. Sam could hear it in his voice.


	5. Chapter 5

The first few hours in the cabin were less than idyllic, Dean had fallen asleep in which was now his armchair only five minutes after walking in through the door. Their bags and boxes of belongings remained in the Impala for hours and Sam spent quite a bit of time complaining that he had left an important part of the abridged version of the Black Grimoire behind and that it was vital that he had it.

“Why do you need it? I thought the whole idea of us leavin’ was nothing supernatural.” Dean said the next morning, in between heaving boxes in from the car.

“Because.” Sam said, doing that cute thing with his nostrils, flaring them like a tamed dragon.

“Because ain’t an answer.” Dean said, handing Sam a box full of vinyl. “Be careful.” Dean mouthed.

“Okay, it’s kind of a surprise but I can’t spoil it.” 

“A surprise for me that you found in a book which belonged to witches who tried to kill me Memento style?”

“De, I know it sounds ridiculous. But-” Sam set the box of records down on the coffee table with care then grabbed Dean’s arm. “-do you trust me?”

“Stupid. Of course I trust you. If you’re that concerned about it, ask Cas to mail it to you.” Dean grinned, pulling Sam closer to him. “Can you give me a clue?”

“Nope but it will probably make you fall in love with me all over again.” Sam smirked.

“In that case, call Cas now.”

The boys spent the day doing what Dean called ‘House shit’. Or when he was actually enjoying it, ‘nesting’. Setting his records up in the living room with his record player, scattering family photos around the place and filling the kitchen with food and booze. 

“It feels like home, don’t it?” Dean hummed as he carried in two Irish hot chocolates, wrapped cozily in his Men of Letters robe which he had become far too attached to leave behind. He sidled up next to his brother on the couch and glanced down at Sam’s crotch.

“It does, I’m surprised. De, why are looking at my crotch?” Sam took his mug of hot chocolate from Dean and blew softly on the surface.

“Are you wearin’ the uh, the, the. Uh.”

“Jockstrap? It’s not a dirty word, De. And no, I’m not.”

“Heh, well I’m kinda glad you ain’t. I’m too tired to get all worked up tonight, sweetheart.”

“Really?” Sam couldn’t hide the slight disappointment in his voice.

“Nah, as soon as I’ve had this bad boy, I’m takin’ you to bed. I mean, this is it now. No more sneakin’ around. We can do whatever we want, whenever want.”

“It’s only been a couple of weeks since we were last here.” Sam rolled his eyes, sipping on his hot chocolate which made him grimace. “De, how much whiskey is in here?”

“A lot.” Dean chuckled lightly then sank back against the couch, suddenly quiet. “Sammy, you say it’s only been a couple of weeks but thinkin’ about it, it feels like a lifetime. I guess, I’ve kinda been in denial about it all. Thoughts would come into my head and I would push ‘em out. I wanted it, but I didn’t.”

“Isn’t crazy, it’s been like that for me. Exactly how you just described it. Always there but not. It was wrong, I guess to many it still is wrong but I got to a point, that you helped me reach where I just thought ‘fuck it’.”

“Sammy said a bad word.” Dean teased but with humorous affection. “I ain’t ever known us to be on the same page and to be just so-” Dean searched his mind for the right word but couldn’t quite manage it.

“Together.” Sam said simply.

“Yeah, together.”

 

*

 

And together was how they spent the rest of the evening and into the wee small hours of the morning. They still had much to learn about one another physically and both were keen to take as much time as possible and just revel in their privacy. Dean had told Sam that he wanted to commit every inch of body to memory, how it looked, tasted and what Sam did when he stroked it, kissed it or licked it. Sam would lie on the bed, like a live specimen for Dean to study, a finger down a vein from Sam’s hip bone to his groin. The tip of his tongue along sinewy muscle inside his brothers thigh. And kisses over every mole, of which there were many. Dean clambered over Sam’s body, laying half on and half off him, chin settling inside the dip which joined Sam’s chest to his underarm. There had been extensive licking and Dean’s mouth looked like he had been sucking on a raspberry Popsicle. Wet and slightly pink.

“You got any kinks, Sammy?” Dean said, firmly stroking Sam’s right shoulder as if trying to iron it out.

“I don’t think so.” Was Sam’s initial answer.

“C’mon. Everyone has got a kink, it don’t have to mean weird shit. Just stuff that really gets you goin’."

“I don’t know.” Sam repeated, not having had enough time to think about it. “What about you?”

“Me? I ain’t ever really had one either. I guess you could say that it’s always been a little vanilla for me.” Dean chuckled with a hint of shyness. “Just regular.”

“And now?”

“Now? Huh.” Dean thought about what he had just been doing. He thought about it quietly and for some time, until his brother prompted an answer with a single cocked eyebrow. “Extreme intimacy.” Dean looked steadily at Sam, he wanted to hear that question of curiosity from his brother before he explained.

“Show me.”

“Okay.” Dean lifted his upper body, leaning against his right elbow which sank deeply between two springs buried inside the mattress. “Y’know when you go to bed with someone for the first time?” Sam nodded. “And you do a little explorin’.” Dean rubbed the pad his thumb over Sam’s lips. “But there’s a limit, a cut off point. You touch a mouth but your fingers don’t go inside.” He said, opening Sam’s mouth with his thumb. “Wider.” Sam complied. “Tongue.” Dean nodded once, a ‘c’mon open up’ request. Sam made a sound from deep within his chest which vibrated up inside his throat, a sort of gulp/moan as he pushed his tongue out. “Ain’t no cut off point for me, not when it comes to you.”

Dean slipped three fingers over Sam’s tongue until his middle finger had reached the point of a possible gag reflex from Sam but he held his own, managing to swallow the gag away. Dean stroked gently, his fingers smothered in saliva which had been building up inside Sam’s mouth. He touched Sam’s uvula tentatively and watched his brothers eyes roll back and his chest pushed out a hard breath, followed by a visceral grunt. Dean kept on, just slow until he curled his fingers around the width of Sam’s tongue and slowly slid his fingers back out. Sam was dribbling like a teething baby, a blush colored his cheeks as he hurriedly wiped it all away as if Dean would judge him. But he didn’t, his own fingers were sucked to mop up any excess and then rubbed it away from Sam’s chin with his thumb.

“Oh God.” Sam muttered. He’d had Dean’s dick pressed against and past the back of his throat but fingers felt much more intimate. 

“So Sammy, what’s your kink?”

“You.” 

Sam had gotten word from Cas that he had mailed the mysterious pages copied from the Black Grimoire that the younger Winchester had been bitching about for days. Castiel hadn’t asked any questions, having taken a quick inside the small black note book and had seen that it contained spells. Dean had set up a paid for mail box at the post office in the nearest town and they both took a day out to pick the package up and maybe have some lunch while they were there. ‘At a nice place where they don’t nuke the food’, Dean had said.

The town was nice, pleasant and homey. Lined with nothing but ‘Mom and Pops’ down a wide main street, tall old fashioned street lamps painted a glossy black sat every few yards and hanging baskets of red begonias swung from every one. Small town USA, a dying institution.

“This place is like a movie set.” Dean observed after parking Baby up a little way down from the post office. “Like that movie, Pleasantville. I bet every single last kid here is called ‘Chip.’.”

“Yeah. Dean. Isn’t it kind of weird?”

“Don’t ruin it, Sammy.” Dean chuckled but with a hint of warning in his voice.

“I’m not but it’s all so perfect. Too perfect.”

“Don’t.”

Sam collected his package from the post office and then they perused the various eatery’s in town before settling on a small Italian restaurant because ‘We don’t eat enough pasta, Sammy’. They waited to be seated, watching a frail octogenarian server shuffle toward them clutching two menus.

“You boys want a table?” The old lady said looking up at them both. “Well, ain’t you two tall. What’s the weather like up there?”

“Cloudy with a chance of meatballs and spaghetti, if we ever get served.” Dean quipped but the joke fell on literal deaf ears. 

“Come with me. I got a real nice table at the window for you boys.” The boys followed her, as if behind a slow moving funeral procession and then slipped around her stealthily to sit down. 

“Oh, there you are.” She chuckled handing them the menus. “My, you two must be brothers, you look so alike.” She chuckled again then toddled off, at snails pace.

“We look nothing alike.” Dean remarked to Sam under his breath. “And so now people think we’re brothers.” Dean shook his head in disbelief.

“We are brothers.” Sam smirked.

“You know what I mean, Sammy. All that time, people thought we were a couple and now we are, we’re brothers.”

“But they’re not wrong.” Sam sighed.

“But still. What the hell g-nocchi?”

“The G’s is silent, De. They’re little potato dumplings.”

“So, not pasta.”

“No.” 

Sam’s worst fears were realized when Dean ordered spaghetti and meatballs. Spherical lumps which took on a life of their own, rolling from Dean’s plate the moment he stuck his fork into the impossible to eat for the untrained in table manners pile of spaghetti noodles. Sam had to resist telling Dean to use a fork and spoon to eat his food, so then just watched and wondered if the spaghetti sauce covered man before him really was his kink. Sam smiled at his brother, all green eyes, hungry, lapping up his food, relaxed and calm. Of course he was.

“Open it now.” Dean insisted as he drove them back to the cabin, drunk on pasta.

“No. Just be patient. We’ll be home soon.” Sam sat neatly with the package on his lap, long fingers curled over under over the edge. Protecting it. “Although, I will ask one thing. Castiel said in the letter that the warding stopped the supernatural from getting in, it didn’t say anything about using magic within the warding.”

“Why, what magic are you usin’?”

“Your kind of magic.”

 

*

 

Sam had sat Dean down in his armchair, given him a beer and sat himself on the couch. His Black Grimoire notes now out of the package and sitting on his lap.

“So, when I was making notes I got to the back of the book.”

“Evil book.” Dean interjected, Sam ignored him.

“And there was a hidden section. Folded pages with a warning written on them.”

“Was it ‘Witches suck’?” Dean chuckled.

“No, it was an adult section.” Sam watched and could almost see Dean’s ears prick up. “In layman’s terms or Dean terms, sex stuff.”

“Those dirty SOB’s.” Dean smirked. “Show me.” 

“There aren’t pictures, De. If that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Oh. So what it is?”

“Spells to enhance your love life.”

“Spells to en- are you kiddin’ me? We don’t need anythin’ like that. It ain’t as if we’re some middle-aged couple who only have sex on Labor Day.”

“Who only has sex on Labor Day?”

“I don’t know. People?”

“De, hear me out. I just thought it would be fun.” Sam sighed as Dean looked entirely unconvinced, then gave in, handing the notes to his brother. Dean snatched the book from Sam’s hands, glowering at him. He flicked idly through the pages, only reading the title of each spell.

“You sayin’ my dick is small?” Dean looked up from the book, incensed. 

“No, De. I knew this was a bad idea. Of all the spells you pick up on. I copied them all out, and for the record, your dick is fine.”

“Just fine?” Dean smirked.

“Perfect.” Sam said flatly.

Dean was not happy with the book, so much so, he hid it. He dug a hole and buried it in a shallow grave a few yards from the cabin and wouldn’t tell Sam where. He felt mostly insulted and about 1 percent intrigued. And within days, it had been forgotten. And Dean did not hold back when it came to helping Sam lay that stupid book to rest. Forever.

Sam had learned that in bed, Dean was the most unselfish and giving person he had ever slept with. To the point where Sam had to actually ask to turn some attention onto the older Winchester. But it was mostly Dean enjoying his brother like he was a six foot four all you can eat buffet. And Dean was never full.

‘De.” Sam gasped out his brothers name, his legs spread open and pinned to the mattress by Dean’s thick fingers as his brother nibbled the inside of his thigh. Right at the top where there is little flesh, only a thin layer skin and underneath a deep violet vein which sent pulses straight to Sam’s groin each time Dean bit it. The biting wasn’t hard, just enough to make Sam react. When Dean got it right, Sam’s cock would lift lazily from his stomach, as if nodding in agreement. When he got it absolutely spot on, it would dribble over his stomach, wanting. And it wasn’t just what Dean did, it was how he did it. The intention and sheer fascination he exuded. Watching, listening. Every breath, every twitch of Sam’s body. Nothing went unnoticed. And then when the time came, Sam’s body would rise from the bed as if he had been possessed, even the noises were otherworldly. Base. Sam was high on chemicals as he lay back trembling, and Dean was the drug pusher. Smug and sipping at a cold cup of black of coffee. Every mouthful brought a grimace.

“Why don’t you get a fresh one?” Sam slurred, to weak to barely move his mouth.

“Enjoyin’ the view too much, sweetheart. How you feelin’?”

“Good, exhausted. Still horny.” The last word a mutter. “De?”

“Yup?”

“You make me feel like a virgin.” Sam’s voice was quiet, shy.

“I don’t mean to.” Dean said, almost groaning at Sam’s admission.

“I mean, not in a weird, creepy way but you really know what you’re doing and I feel like I don’t satisfy you in the same way.” 

“That’s stupid. You turn me on all the time, hell. You don’t even have to do anythin’. I’m hot for you all the time, Sammy.”

“Then let me enjoy you, like you enjoy me. Just once in a while.” There was humor in Sam’s voice.

“Deal. Wanna start now?”

“Once you give me some time to recharge and grab me a coffee. A hot one.”

“Consider it done, baby boy.” Dean kissed his brother on the cheek, feeling the heat from the blush by way of reaction to the pet name. Sam watched Dean stroll naked and unabashed out of the bedroom. They had slotted into their new life with ease. After the initial first night nerves of giggling and under the covers fumbling, both were quite comfortable being naked around one another. There had been brief glimpses before then, hard not to when you’re in such close quarters with another person practically 24/7. Sam had noticed when a few years back, he had spent a lot time working out, it was when he was at his biggest, not willowy as he is now. And he was sure, kind of sure that he would catch Dean looking at him if ever he came out of the shower in nothing but a towel slung around his waist. But Sam, at the time put it down to the fact his body looked good, Dean was never one to work out and had always been a little rounder in places. Not fat, not even flabby just soft and almost curvy. More importantly Sam loved Dean’s body which is why he asked permission to let him play with it.

Dean wandered back into the bedroom, a steaming cup of coffee in one hand, a beer in the other and a long piece of jerky hanging from his mouth. Sam was handed the cup, sitting up slowly, still a little dizzy.

“De? I was just thinking about something from a while ago.” 

Dean bit into the jerky and made himself comfortable on the bed, sitting Indian style which briefly amused his brother. 

“Hit me.”

“Remember when I was working out a lot and I-”

“Oh hell yeah, you looked hot. Go on.”

“Nothin’.” Sam said lazily, grinning back at Dean. “You kind of answered my question anyways.”

“Was I lookin’ at you? Yeah, all the damn time. And that one time, I walked in on you in the shower. Busting for a pee and I saw you, buck naked. I took one look at “Little Sam’, I didn’t know whether I was feelin’ jealous or horny. I mean, as appendages go Sammy, you won the lottery.”

“Oh De.” Sam rolled his eyes playfully then sipped at his coffee. “But then, you got the lips to suck it with.”

Dean growled at his brother like a tied up dog.

“Say more stuff like that.” Dean grinned. Sam chose not to say another word. Instead he quietly sipped on his coffee, gazing at his brother like he was some deity that only he was permitted to worship and Dean returned the sentiment, eyes falling over his brothers body. Allowing them, these days, to linger for as long as he wanted. Coffee and beer set to one side, Sam maneuvered his brother onto his front, like heaving dough on a work top, fingers pressing into his flesh ‘stay there’, ‘lift up’ until he had him how he wanted him. Vulnerable, ass up, head down, legs kneaded apart. Sam heard Dean swallow, even letting out a soft grumble at being manhandled. Dean rarely let himself fall into such an exposed state, Sam figured that a little part of Dean’s attentiveness toward his own body was to hide a little shyness of his own. The slow but firm lick came from nowhere, he could feel the cold air on his wet scrotum as Sam pulled away and then again as Sam sucked that bit between his balls and his ass hole, the name of which he could never remember. Sam would know. His tongue worked it’s way back down and then up, teasing the puckered lines of his ass hole.

“Relax.” Sam whispered, the very tip of his tongue trying to work against the resistance. Dean groaned and Sam’s tongue managed to slip inside, just a centimeter or so, but just enough to taste. “Oh God.” Sam muttered, using his thumbs to prize Dean open just a little more until he was gently tongue fucking his brother, steadily opening him up, encouraged by the sounds ruminating from deep inside Dean’s chest. His hand slipped between Dean’s legs and wrapped around his dick which was hard, the tip soaked and bending as if straining to one side, a quirk which Sam adored. Again Dean grunted then surprised Sam by pushing his ass against his brothers face. And in Sam’s hand, his dick throbbed hard.

“Sammy.” Dean muttered, it almost sounded like begging. And with that vague instruction, Sam took his time. Stroking the length of Dean’s dick, slowly working him up until he was coming over the bed sheets, almost barking out his approval at Sam’s work. And Sam lost him from his hands as he fell face first onto the bed, a sweaty wreck. Sam caught his hips roll, his cock still sensitive, his hips snapping at the sensation. And then he laid still but Sam caught the edge of a lazy grin. 

“Happy?” Sam asked, laying down facing his brother.

“Understatement.” Dean mumbled. “Kiss me.” And Sam did, slowly and Dean could taste his ass on Sam’s mouth, his dick twitched with approval. 

The buried copy of the pages from the Black Grimoire were soon forgotten. Its existence crossed neither of their minds since magic was the last thing they needed, they worked well enough together using mortal sorcery. Stretching their very senses to their limits in the purest form.


End file.
